


do such damage (how do you manage?)

by SmoakScreen (midwestwind)



Series: Tumblr Prompts [5]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, F/M, Fingerfucking, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-26
Updated: 2015-03-26
Packaged: 2018-03-19 16:28:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3616560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midwestwind/pseuds/SmoakScreen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oliver/Felicity + Prompt #36 "I wish I could hate you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	do such damage (how do you manage?)

**Author's Note:**

> There is no fluff here. My good pal Melanie requested this prompt and this pairing and this was pretty much my way of getting back at her because I love her lots!! Also, this sort of discounts for Ray's existence - but everything else about season 3 is the same. Because, let's be honest here folks, Ray Palmer is not the biggest obstacle in Oliver and Felicity's way right now.
> 
> It's short but I wanted to post it anyway because I ended up quite liking it for a prompt fill. [Original post here!](http://felicityssmoak.co.vu/post/114595978445/oliver-felicity-36)

Felicity couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this angry at Oliver Queen. To be fair, she probably could if she properly tried but why make herself more upset? She didn’t know how long they’d been snapping at each other but at some point John and Roy had slipped away after a few failed attempts at mediating. Felicity couldn’t even remember what they’d started arguing about in the first place but there was so much animosity between them lately it hadn’t taken much to turn into a full on fight.

She’s glaring up at him – literally _up_ because somehow they always manage to end up inches from each other – and opening her mouth to tear into him again when suddenly his is crashing down on her. The kiss is messy, a contrast to their first kiss which Oliver had controlled with the same guard he did everything else. This time she can feel the shift, she can feel Oliver’s control slipping.

And, well, she never had his control to begin with.

Before she can really focus on anything other than the way he tastes and his body flush against hers, he has her pressed between himself and one of the cement pillars. She gasps as he drags his lips from hers, trails open mouthed kisses down her throat. Her heart rate jumps as his tongue darts out to taste the skin over her pulse point. She’s so caught up in the sensations of him she’s forgetting why this is a bad idea.

She sighs out his name and he stops suddenly, his forehead falling forward against the pillar behind her. His stubble scratches against her cheek as his chest rises and falls at the same pace as hers. She takes a sick delight in affecting him the same way he affects her.

“I didn’t say to stop,” she offers weakly, the shakiness of her voice betraying her attempt at levity. She feels Oliver’s chest move in a sigh.

“Felicity.” She recognizes that tone and, despite that fact that he’s still got her pinned to the pillar, she can feel him pulling away emotionally.

“God damn, Oliver,” she murmurs but the heat is lost somewhere on her tongue, “I wish I could hate you.” He pulls back just enough to see her face and she takes advantage of the movement, guiding his mouth back to hers. He kisses her slow and languid, like they have all the time in the world. They both know that’s not true.

“I wish you would,” he responds in between kisses. Felicity thinks this isn’t the slow, gentle talk of lovers but the thought drifts away as his hand slides down her leg, finding its way slowly up the inside of her thigh, past her flared skirt. He’s pulling away again, asking for permission. She wonders if he’s hoping she’ll have enough control for the both of them to put an end to this. _No dice, Queen_.

“You gonna do something with that hand?” She asks challengingly, raising an eyebrow. Oliver’s eyes narrow but his hand drifts upwards until his fingers play along the lace at the inside of her thigh. Her eyes drift close as his fingers dip inwards, stroking her gently over her underwear. Felicity groans. _Of course he’d be a tease_.

“It’s called creating suspense,” he teases and she realizes she’d said that out loud. Still, one of her less embarrassing verbal slips where Oliver Queen is concerned. She rolls her eyes at him and moves her hips against his hand.

“God, you’re such a drama queen,” she groans, her head falling back against the cement behind her as he dipped a finger underneath the fabric, stroking her folds. “We don’t have _time_ for suspense.” Either the reminder or her reaction spurs him on and he’s pushing her underwear aside, pressing his thumb against her clit.

“Fuck, you’re wet,” he comments, something like awe in his deep voice. He moves his thumb in a slow circle and she can’t form words so she just hums in response. He slides one finger into her and Felicity lets out a breathy moan. When she opens her eyes, he’s watching her and she leans forward capturing his lips again. He moves his finger inside her, his thumb still stroking lazily at her clit and the slow pace is killing her.

“Oliver,” she groans against his lips.

“Yes?” He responds, sounding much more put together than she is at the moment. There’s too much amusement in his voice for the slow pace not to be an intentional tactic.

“ _More_ ,” she all but growls, rolling her hips into his hand. This time he lets out a strangled groan, her movement knocking their hips together and creating a friction against his own arousal. She smirks and repeats the movement. Something flashes in his eyes and slips another finger inside her without warning. She gasps, her head falling back roughly against the pillar again, and Oliver takes the opportunity to press his mouth to her exposed neck, his hand pumping in and out of her at a faster pace. Her own hand travels along the tight muscles of his bicep, exposed by his thin t-shirt. His free hand closes around her thigh, hiking it up around his waist and changing the angle so suddenly she actually lets out a little moan.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she hisses and doesn’t have to look at him to be sure he’s smirking, feels it against the sensitive skin of her throat. He picks up the pace a little more, stroking just the right spot as he applies a more firm pressure to her clit. She can feel herself tipping closer and closer to the edge.

“Oliver,” she moans, “ _please_.” He doesn’t hesitate to flick his thumb once, twice and she’s falling over the edge. He surges forwards kissing her hard, once, as she comes. He pulls away, murmuring something that sounds like _I love you_ but she’s too far gone to hear it properly. He works her through the orgasm before pulling away from her fully, smoothing her skirt back down for her with his other hand.  Felicity reaches up, smoothing a hand over her hair and watching him pull away from her. The blissful feeling doesn’t last long as she watches Oliver clean up and return to their usual distance.

She adjusts her glasses and straightens her dress, avoiding his eyes as he watches her the way she’d watched him.

“It should be easier than this,” she says, finally, looking up to catch his gaze, “shouldn’t it?”


End file.
